The Old Magician

The old magician takes the stage

His act has not improved with age

Observe the shabby hat and gloves

The tired act that no one loves

There was a time he produced doves

A mirror and a puff of smoke

His mysteries are now a joke

His poor assistant black and blue

She's tired of being sawn in two

She's tired of being sawn in two

Hidden trapdoor, velvet cape

Still from death there's no escape

Words of sympathy and tact

Only underline the fact

Death is a lousy disappearing act

Lord have mercy and be kind

When our faculties unwind

Overlook the hat and gloves

The tired act that no one loves

There was a time we produced doves

Overlook the hat and gloves

The tired act that no one loves

There was a time we produced doves

The old magician takes the stage

With sleight of hand he'll disengage

As dignified as you'll allow

He'll take his last, his final bow

He's lost all his illusions now

As dignified as you'll allow

He'll take one last one final bow

He's lost all his illusions now